


The Devil Wars Prada

by ajay_lotte



Series: The Yellow Car Initiative [5]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Fantastic Four, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Defenders (Marvel TV), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Chaos, Civil War, Disasters, Gen, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, but it's a second civil war, everything is the Wasp's fault, kind of, literally everyone is in this, yellow car game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26440405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajay_lotte/pseuds/ajay_lotte
Summary: In which an army of giant ants try to kill the Wasp, everybody in the universe wants to design Daredevil's new suit, and Matt ends a second Civil War with the yellow car game.
Series: The Yellow Car Initiative [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883668
Comments: 6
Kudos: 206





	The Devil Wars Prada

**Author's Note:**

> A part five! Huh, who knew?  
> This can be read as a stand alone so ^ doesn't really matter ngl  
> Marvel owns all these characters and stuff, this is just a fanfiction for my own amusement because I suck, I'm bored, and thought this was a good idea when I started writing  
> So yeah, hope this is worth ten minutes of your life?

“Hey Buddy, what time is our next appointment? We’ve ran out of milk, so I was going to do a coffee run.” Foggy says, standing up from his computer. It’s been a busy day, and the three are going to be working late today.

Karen scoffs from her desk. “We don’t have time for a coffee run. What do you think we are? A successful business?” Foggy’s jaw drops. Matt laughs. “Sorry Foggy, that was uncalled for.”

“It’s ok Karen.” He says. “We’re all tired. And besides, that was pretty funny. At least I’m tired enough to find it funny. Milk, Matt?”

“They’ll be here in five minutes. Upstairs has some milk, they might let us borrow some.”

“I’ll go.” Karen says. “You two dorks lose all tact when you’re... only awake enough to be lawyers. It’s like your default setting or something.” She leaves the office just as Matt’s phone starts ringing, reciting out an unknown number.

“Hello?” He picks up, looking generally at Foggy to try to give him a questioning glance without taking off his glasses.

“Hi, this is Hope Pym. I stole your number from Scott’s phone.” A formal woman’s voice comes from down the end of the line, and it takes Matt a second to take a mental leap from his workplace to his social life.

Yes, Daredevil is his social life.

He has no regrets.

He has so many regrets.

“By association, it makes sense to call me Red.” He lowers his voice, just a little.

“Thank you. I need your help.”

Matt pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not an Avenger.” That got Foggy’s attention though, because the man’s heart has sped up.

“Oh, I know. Neither am I. My father’s not all too fond on Stark, and honestly neither am I. That’s why I’m calling you, and not them. They’ll overreact, and I can’t work with liabilities.”

“Yet your boyfriend is a forty-nine-year-old kid.” Matt counters.

“And how old are you exactly?” Hope counters, and Matt chuckles.

“Nice try.” He’s twenty-nine, not that he’ll tell her, because she’s refusing help from official heroes, mostly all older and more experienced than he is. Karen returns successfully with the milk. “What do you want Hope?”

“Who’s Hope?” She whispers to Foggy. Foggy shrugs.

Hope sighs, her business composure collapsing. “I was experimenting. I heard from Luis that you could be some kind of soldier- he’s very into his superheroes. And that would be handy as I’ve created an army of giant ants and killer wasps.”

Matt decides it best to ignore the soldier comment. “I love the nonchalance you say that with.” Foggy starts mouthing things to Matt, he can hear gross mouth noises. 

But Foggy has seemed to have forgotten that reading lips is a sighted thing.

“Just don’t tell Scott. Or my parents if you ever meet them. Can you help or not?”

“I finish in three hours.”

“I can wait.”

“You can wait? What situation do you have?”

“They’re all contained in the lab. I can’t shrink it because the keys are inside, and that wouldn’t help anyway because size is relative, and I’d still be fighting giant insects.” It seems she’s given this a lot of thought. And the information is kept short and concise- nothing like the Avengers meetings or Peter’s long-winded explanations. Actually, Peter’s a spider.

“Why didn’t you ring Spiderman?”

“He’s an Avenger, by default they cause too much damage. Besides, Stark probably has him bound to a sacred oath or something.” It’s official. Hope Pym is an amazing person. But his thoughts on the woman are cut short by the sound of their client’s voices at the office block doorway.

“I’ve got to go. If there’s a development, ring me.”

There isn’t a development. In fact, the next two hours of Matt’s life are incredibly boring as he listens through three meetings, itching to go and fight giant bugs. His restlessness doesn’t go unnoticed by his friends. “What’s got you so hyped?” Foggy asks before their last meeting of the day.

“A new team up. Hope wants me to fight with her. I don’t know how long it will take, but patrol is out for the night. I’m going to San Francisco.”

Foggy chokes on his cold coffee. “Buddy, that’s like a five-hour flight.”

“Yeah, but I know a closeted teleporter.” He doesn’t elaborate as their client walks through the door, whole family apparently along for the ride.

Foggy and Karen wish Matt luck as he gets into the taxi. “Call Loki.” He instructs his phone back at the apartment as he changes into his black suit. The Frost Giant is over in a second. “You were quick. I’m not even dressed yet.” Matt doesn’t turn to face him, just hangs up the phone call.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Loki steps towards the Devil. “More scars than I remember. You have been busy.” He kisses Matt briefly before stepping back. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

“You’re bored out of your mind.” Matt hurries, nonetheless. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Anything for you, Matthew.” Once the mask is on, Loki whisks them away, straight to Pym’s lab. “Sorry I can’t stay for the fight, but I have royal matters to attend to. Valkyrie isn’t as happy as she thought she would be on the thrown.”

“Sounds like chaos.”

“Oh, it is. It’s wonderful. Thor can’t control a thing.” Matt chuckles. “Goodbye, Red.” Hope appears as soon as Loki vanishes.

“Daredevil.”

“Wasp.”

They shake hands.

“You’re lacking protective gear.” Daredevil doesn’t answer, doesn’t even move. Hope’s heartbeat increases satisfyingly. She’s scared of him. Good. “We have forty ants and five wasps. Each are the size of an average office desk. Luis says you don’t kill.”

Matt finds himself really wanting to meet Luis. For no reason. “You said army.”

“This particular group are intent on killing me.”

“I know the feeling.” He throws his billy clubs up, spinning them in the air before catching them once again. “I’ll help you disable them, no excess mess. You kill them in your own time.”

“Hopefully, I won’t have to.” She opens the door for the Devil, and he goes in first, immediately met with a giant ant face breathing on him. Before it even has chance to attack, he chucks a club at its head and the creature falls limp. “In the doorway, are you kidding me?”

“You shrink.” He growls. That doesn’t get a response, but it does result in the Wasp shrinking and flying around the ant.

“Don’t break the wasps’ wings. I want to rehabilitate them, not give them certain death when I can return them to their original size.” The devil gives her one curt nod, before tilting his head to the side. She watches him, then sees a giant ant coming through the door behind him. The man spins and concusses it easily. Though that’s only the first domino. Three wasps fly in, ants trailing in underneath them. “You ready?”

He grins. It’s bloodthirsty. She swallows down her fear. Their conversation over the phone really didn’t give him justice. He runs and jumps onto an ant’s back, narrowly avoiding its death warranting pincers and hits it hard on the head. As it falls, he leaps up, throwing out a billy club around a wasp and using the retractable wire to pull himself up and onto it. He knocks it out mid-flight, the flying insect falling, him keeping it upright, so it lands directly on another ant keeping it out of action.

“Going to lend a hand?”

“You look like you have everything under control.” Hope answers. She was caught out, but the woman has never seen anyone fight with so much confidence, and she was in Infinity War.

A couple of ants which have passed the first line of defence take her attention, and suddenly she’s thrust into the fight, joining her temporary partner in putting the creatures out of action. “They just keep coming!” She complains. It’s nearing ten, and they’ve been fighting for nearly two hours. They’re tired. They’re injured.

They’re still winning.

“Your boyfriend’s coming.” 

“What?!”

“I’d give you about an hour… he’s going out for a drink with his work friends.”

Hope snorts. “They’re his actual friends.”

The Devil doesn’t find any humour in the situation, his head still cocked to the side, lips resting in a slight frown. “Only two wasps and thirty-one.” He concusses an ant. “Thirty ants left. I can handle it. I’ll cover you to your workbench.”

There’s no point in arguing. Hope needs to solve this before Scott gets back. She’d never live it down.

“Ok, follow me.” They work their way up the lab, putting five ants out of action on the way. But the line to her desk isn’t clear, seven carpenter ants ready for action by her station. “They’re strategizing.” She says.

“I know.” Daredevil answers. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ok then.

The Wasp fights behind her, keeping away the ants, shrinking and re-growing at every precise moment whilst the Devil clears her path. “Go!” He yells, she abandons her post and runs. He takes over, but she can’t help but notice the man limping. There’s a giant gash in his leg.

“You’re injured!” She yells over the noise of one of the buzzing wasps flying closer.

He does a backflip. Dude. “I’m not out of commission. Just fix this, Hope.” She nods her head and gets to work, trying her best to ignore the ongoing war in the background. A grunt from the Devil gets her attention half an hour later. “You didn’t mention poisonous ants.” He spits out blood.

“Antidote’s in the desk drawer by the door.” She decides it’ll do them both good if she remains calm.

He growls through the pain. “You don’t make this easy. Keep working.” Wounded and poisoned, he fights through the oncoming ants to the desk drawer. Only one gets passed him which she takes out easily. “How do I take it?”

“It’s an injection. Put it into your…” she trails off because he’s already admitted the antidote into his blood stream, efficiently from where she’s standing. “It’ll start to work in a minute. I’d advise you to rest.”

“Keep working Hope.” She puts her head down. He fights through them.

“I think I’ve got it!” She takes the particles, and puts them into an injection needle, stabbing it into the nearest concussed ant.

It grows.

It’s half the size of the room.

“You said you had it!”

“I said ‘I think’ I had it!” She counters. “I’ll just reverse it. The factor’s right.” The second attempt works. And it works perfectly. The giant ant gets too doses. “Catch!” She yells, chucking needles at the Devil who catches them without looking.

Huh.

He stabs the fighting creatures with them first. “Five minutes, Hope.”

They split up, taking half the particles each, returning their enemies to the original sizes, collapsing onto the sofa in reception. “You need a new suit.” She tells him. “What happened to the Red one?”

“I outgrew it.”

“I get the feeling you don’t mean literally.” He doesn’t answer. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I thought you’d say ‘no’, because word has it you only stick to New York.”

He hums. “I get bored.” She laughs.

“Well, let me know if you get bored again. I’m sure I can replicate this giant ant army.” This time he laughs. “But seriously, you need armour.”

“You’re right.” He says, as the door opens, and Scott comes in shouting ‘hello!’ “This one is… outdated.”

“It had it’s victory, right?” Hope asks, referring to Fisk. He nods. “I’m experimenting with suits of my own. It would be a good way for me to thank you.”

“You don’t need to pay me for this.”

“You’re a Defender. You defend people, I know.”

“Red, hey! What are you doing bleeding in Hank’s lab?” The man stays silent. Scott looks outwardly nervous.

Hope clears her throat. “Red here, is considering getting a new suit.” The man gasps, excitement radiating off him like a child. The Devil wasn’t wrong. “I’m offering to make it.”

“Wait, since when are you two on first name basis?” Scott asks, pointing his finger between the two with questioning eyebrows. “You know what, Hope; you can tell me later. Ok, new suit- are you sticking with the singular black colour?”

“No.” He replies, leaning back on the sofa. “A lot of my identity relies on the colour.” He smirks, like he’s remembering some sort of inside joke. Then the smirk vanishes. “I might get kicked off Team Red if I get a suit sans red.”

“Team Red?” Scott asks.

Daredevil nods. “Deadpool, Spiderman, me. We all wear- wore, red. Deadpool named us.” Daredevil thinks to his insistence on that’s what the three of them are, according to the voices. He and Peter tried to dissuade him, but the name was the one thing the man wouldn’t let go of. So the three allies, or maybe friends if Matt’s having a good day, are team red.

“Do I get an invite?” In Hope’s opinion, her boyfriend is way too hopeful. She gets up to receive the first aid kit, figuring the Devil is going to be here for a while longer.

“What?”

“My suit’s red.” Scott says. “And we’ve worked together a few times. Like with that lizard dude when Peter was on holiday. And then I helped you and Hawkeye with Bullseye that one time.”

Red frowns. “We have. You’re an Avenger, though.”

“The kid’s an Avenger.”

“He wasn’t when he joined the team.” Red groans. “He literally only joined us afterhours for chimichangas.” Those were the good times, when Peter wasn’t always trying to make his life a living hell. Hope returns. Matt sees to his own injuries.

“So, the suit?” Hope asks.

“I agree I need new armour. But I’m not ready to commit to it yet.”

“Ring me, then. When you know what you need.”

The man stands to his feet, head bowed. “Thank you.” He leaves out the front door, of all things. The ordinariness of the action seems out of place.

Hope waits a minute after he’s left. “Is he human?” She asks her boyfriend, and he takes Daredevil’s vacant seat. She rests her head on his shoulder.  
“Nobody knows.” Scott replies. “The Avengers have a betting pool, though. Fury’s terrified of him- thinks he’s the real thing.”

“What?” Hope asks, taking Scott’s hand in hers. “The Devil himself?”

“Yeah. I think he can read minds. Always seems to know how to manipulate people. I put twenty bucks in the pot. Don’t kill me- Fury’s put in seventy. Agent Romanoff reckons he’ll put in hundreds by the time they determine the winner.” Hope laughs. “Hope; is that ant dead?”

“Just concussed.” There’s a beat.

“I’m not going to ask. Let’s go home.”

“I’ll get the keys.”

Outside, trees over, Matt throws his head back with a laugh. He takes out his mobile. “Call Natasha.” She answers.

“Daredevil.”

“I’m stranded in San Francisco.”

“Clint’s flying overhead that way tomorrow. He’ll meet you.”

“Thank you.”

So Matt rings Foggy and gets the day off. He then researches Scott Lang and finds X-Con Security Consultants.

They open at seven.

Matt sleeps in a tree.

The next morning, Scott turns up to work to find the Devil sat on his desk, still in Costume, drinking coffee, listening to one of Luis’ many stories. About him. Daredevil is smirking.

“Guys?” He asks. Dave swears. Kurt knocks over his drink. Daredevil doesn’t move.

“Hey, Scotty. I was just telling Daredevil about that time you lost your clothes during a job.”

“Does everybody just know the Devil without telling me?”

Luis laughs. “Nah, man. Met him this morning. You’re a total legend, dude.”

“Yes.” Kurt agrees. “The Devil certainly lives up to his reputation.” Dave nods along. “Though, he is suspiciously willing to give us his number.” Scott glances at Daredevil, but he gives him no tell as to what his angle is.

“Dude. You were at the lab last night, and now you’re at my work. And you’re friends with all my friends. How?”

“Hope told me about Luis’ research on heroes.”

“Man, I told you not to get in the Devil’s business. He’s evil!” Scott gestures at the coffee sipping man. He only smirks more.

“He’s right.” Daredevil stands. He grins, evilly. Then dives headfirst out the window.

“What the hell?!” Dave jumps to his feet and looks out the window. “He’s gone.”

“That man gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Kurt comments. Scott nods, agreeing.

“Nah, man. That man’s gold.”

Clint picks Daredevil up on top of Scott’s business place, lowering a ladder for him to climb up. The Devil springs up it, rather than climbs. Matt doesn’t address anyone on the ship as he pulls up the ladder and closes the hatch. “What business did you have in San Francisco?” Clint asks, following the Masked Man into the body of the jet.

“An oversized army.”

“An army?” Someone asks, and Matt sniffs, recognising the earthy smell of T’Challa. He revels in the movement of his vibranium. The unique behaviour of the metal is heaven for Matt, the way it moves, the way it absorbs sound, energy too. “Are you at war?”

“Not anymore.” The jet starts to move again, gaining height. He sits next to the King of Wakanda, opposite Clint and Steve.

Nobody comments.

“T’Challa is here for a meeting with Stark. Hopefully this time you’ll be able to come to an arrangement on your technology.” Steve tries to make conversation.

It doesn’t help.

“You are injured.” T’Challa tells Daredevil. “Have you considered getting a new suit? I have seen the pictures of you’re red one. I was personally quite fond of it.”  
Daredevil nods. “The Wasp bought the notion to my attention.”

The Devil is making conversation.

The world is ending.

“She’s offered to make a new one for me. This time I may forgo the horns though; a lot of people thought they were ‘a bit much’.”

“Nonsense.” T’Challa says. “The horns were perfect. Your demonic imagery certainly helped to strike fear.” The Devil cocks his head to the side.

Steve laughs. “You would say that. Your helmet has cat ears on it. I agree with the public.”

“That’s only because you’re petrified of the man.” Clint gestures to Red, who smirks.

“I also think,” Steve continues on, “that you should go with a brighter red.”

“No way.” Clint and T’Challa say, simultaneously. Matt has it confirmed by Foggy that both Avengers wear black, and black only, in comparison to his childhood hero who still supports the bright patriarchal colours. “Blood red suits you. Hides all your wounds.” Clint jokes.

Matt chuckles.

“Why don’t you leave it in my hands?” T’Challa asks. “Shuri is a big fan, and her jobs have gotten ‘way too boring T’Challa. When are you going to be fighting aliens again?’.” He even does the voice. Clint snorts. “She would love to have the honour of designing your suit.”

Matt had quite liked the horns.

Even if Foggy laughed at him.

And Jessica.

“Maybe I will. But my suit is important to me, and I’m not quite sure what I need from it.” T’Challa nods.

“I understand. Perhaps Stark would be interested in holding another conference.”

That’s how Matt finds himself in a meeting in Upstate New York the very next day containing every hero/vigilante he’s ever met and more. Everybody’s in groups: the Avengers, Defenders, team Red, Guardians of the Galaxy, X-Men members, Charles Xavier himself, the Fantastic Four. They’re all here. They’re all talking.

It’s overwhelming.

It gives him a chance to demand all his apartment keys get returned.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Strange.” A lone man greets him, wearing a cape that moves as a different entity around him. It’s wonderful. Then Matt realises he’s holding out his hand to shake.

He shakes it, misjudging only slightly. “Daredevil.”

“Yes, we haven’t met yet and for that I am extremely disappointed. I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you for quite some time, about help from you I’m going to be needing in the near future.”

Daredevil retracts his hand. “When the time comes.” 

“Precisely. Right now, everybody is waiting upon you; there’s a seat by me and Wong.” Daredevil takes the offer. 

Fury kicks off the meeting. “Hello, everyone. We’ve not had a meeting like this before as such; I had not realised how many people in this universe were invested in Daredevil’s outfit.”

“The man’s a horror story.” Rocket speaks up. That raccoon promised not to bring up their prior meeting, but it’s not like he’s a man of his word.

“I’d like to move this meeting on quickly and efficiently. I have more important things to be worried about than giving satanic vigilantes fashion advice.”

“Fury’s incorrect about that. This is the most important part of my life.” Tony argues. Pepper hits him. “Asides from proposing to Miss Potts, my point still stands.”

The conference turns into chaos after the opening question: ‘what shade of red should the suit be?’. A lot of heroes, including Wade, and his friends who are purely out to destroy his life, are arguing for a brighter, ‘safer’ shade of red. “You realise that I dress to beat up criminals, not attend birthday parties.” Tony and Steve shut up.

“We have these shades of red available on Wakanda.” Shuri, who is only here remotely, speaks up. Matt doesn’t know where to look. A screen, or hologram? He also doesn’t know what the different reds are. Then more offers come from Hank Pym, and then from Tony Stark. Reed Richards then offers to make a suit, bringing his own colours up on a tablet.

“You’re screwed, Red.” Frank whispers. Jessica snorts.

“What’s so funny… I don’t even know who you are.” Fury states.

“Jessica Jones, PI.” She snorts. “Double D over there would like his suit to have black parts on it too. Like before. Something to give it shadows.” Danny looks at the woman in shock. “Oh, piss off. My sister is basically a model. She knows fashion.”

“Like my suit?” Peter asks. Everyone screams. The argument rises again.

Coulson suggests they move on. “The horns.” Again, it’s about a fifty-fifty split. Rocket suggests adding a tail and trident to the outfit. By many, the trident is viewed as a good idea.

After arguing that he doesn’t need FRIDAY installed, in spite of stealing a pair of Stark sunglasses earlier in the initiative. And then after arguing over what would be the best material for the suit, something that everybody has an opinion on, the meeting comes to a natural stand off by Matt’s phone ringing.  
He steps outside to take it. “Hello?”

“Matt, it’s Foggy. Where are you?”

“Upstate.”

“What? Why? Are you injured?”

“I got pinched by an ant.”

Foggy takes a moment to figure this. “What? Never mind. I know it’s Saturday, just you haven’t checked in.”

“I’m sorry, Fogs, I…”

“Daredevil.” Thor’s voice booms. Oh shit. Matt had really hoped the Norse gods would stay out of this one. But here they are, the big three.

“I’ve got to go.” He hangs up and leads the three into the conference room. Matt returns to his seat next to Strange.

Thor ignores everybody’s protests and marches up to the front of the room. “We are here to give the notion of adding a cape to the Devil’s costume.”

Loki grins.

That motherfucker.

All three flash their red, green, and white coats respectively, impressing the rest of the group, though not having much of an impact on Matt.  
Strange sits up in his seat next to him. “Capes are fun.”

“You’re a wizard.” Peter argues, the only sensible person here.

“Oh, you should definitely get a cape.” Jessica snorts. Danny joins in quickly, advertising the notion very legitimately. Daredevil snarls.

The constant arguing is causing havoc with Matt’s senses. It hurts so bad. He can’t concentrate. But he can project, and though he’s trained to block telepaths, he opens his mind to Charles. The old man clutches his head.

“Everybody stop!” The telepath yells. Matt closes his mind quickly. Everybody shuts up and he feels like he can breath. “Make two suits. You have two hours.”

For once, Steve and Tony are on the same side.

To Matt’s delight Hope teams up with Shuri.

He’s already chosen his costume, the dark, devil horned, possibly vibranium involved suit in comparison to his childhood hero’s idealistic view. Matt’s ashamed to admit that. But it’s only practical.

But despite this decision, he really wants to play this out.

So, on the top of the Avengers Facility Unit, the four (five including Reed who still thinks he’s important here), show their creations to Matt.

But before he can even voice his thoughts, the two admittedly giant teams start arguing again, showing off their creations.

That’s how Daredevil starts the second Civil War.

For hours they fight, all through the night, too much property being damaged for anyone’s liking, though luckily this time it all belongs to Stark.

Matt’s had enough. “Yellow car!” He yells, and hits everyone closest to him.

They all hit him back.

They all know the rules.

Matt goes home, after giving his thanks to everyone with two new suits, a detachable cape, and a pair of new round FRIDAY glasses with the promise to return the previously stolen goods.

Monday morning. Matt’s testing his head on the desk. Foggy’s eating a donut. Karen turns on the news.

“After successfully defeating an army of giant ants in San Francisco, New York’s local vigilante Daredevil singlehandedly ended a second Civil War between our beloved heroes.” The news presenter recites.

“You did what?!” Foggy drops his bagel.

“Here is an interview on what happened with Thor Odinson, previous King of Asgard.”

“Everybody was obsessed with building the new suit, and things got a bit competitive. And you know what makes it better? No?” Thor’s voice is just as loud on screen. “I still wasn’t asked to come to this one.”

“Matty? What were you doing over the week end?” 

“And then he yelled ‘yellow car’, and on Asgard we haven’t had the honour of this tradition, but Phil, Son of Coul, explained to me. It is a highly ‘fun’ and competitive game which has sparked a less threatening ‘civil war’ amongst your best warriors.”

“So, you’re saying the Devil stopped mutants, mutates, and other various dangerous individuals by starting the yellow car game?”

Karen looks over at Matt. “Is this true?”

“No.” He says.

“Yes.” Thor confirms on the news.

Foggy and Karen burst out laughing.

“This leaves us to wonder how we can trust such a powerful group of individuals to protect us when they’re easily distracted by such childish games.”

Karen turns off the news.

“So,” she says, after a while, “what happened?”

”It was my fault.”

“For that I have no doubt.”

Matt hides his head in his arms. Only to lift it up again at the sound of ‘two new messages from Clint’.

“Who’s Clint?” Foggy asks. Matt shakes off the question off as his phone recites an image number, which Matt definitely isn’t going to get Foggy to describe. He clicks the next message.

“The Devil Wars Prada.”

Matt’s phone finds its home in the filing cabinet.

“Clint no longer exists.”


End file.
